hopeless wanderer
by singingofdeath
Summary: Amy Pond receives a letter and a package from her past life.


So leave that click in my head  
And I will remember the words that you said  
Left a clouded mind and a heavy heart  
But I was sure we could see a new start

* * *

The yellowed pages of the letter sat on Amy's kitchen counter for weeks.  
The fair-skinned woman knew who it was from the second her fingers brushed across the black cursive letters reading, "Amelia Pond".

He found a way somehow. That madman with a stupid blue box found a way. But Amy Pond wasn't ready to hear what he couldn't say to her before she left. Amelia Williams had found a way to cope without him, focusing on her new job amid the middle 1900's in fashionably decorative dresses and jazz music. She left herself become the wife, the woman Rory had pleaded her to become for him. But even at night, with the windowpanes shaking against the wind and Rory's soft snoring breaking the peace, she could still hear his half-choked cries of her name in the graveyard. The past could never stay away for long, not even from Amelia Williams.

But when Rory was out and she had nothing else to do, Amy Pond would emerge from the cracks, her fiery hair and bold words traveling to a nearby cemetery for a walk. Amy would sit down on the grass, her pale legs glowing under her dress. She'd imagine she was wearing her black skirt and heavy red sweater, hand clasped in the Doctor's like old times. She'd revel in the feeling of wind whipping at her hair as they ran from the monsters, the sound of the sonic screwdriver sounding back at their enemies. Amy Pond would let her fingers roam to the cold key clutched in her hands, the raised edges indenting a thin line on her soft skin. Other times, the key would be hidden below her jewelry case where Rory could never find it. It was the only piece of the past she could touch with her own fingers. The key to her home. While she was with her imaginary friend, she never took it off a chain hanging around her slender neck. She hadn't realized she left with it on until after finding Rory. He had mentioned it's existence.

"You should get rid of it." He had said, something about letting go of the past. Amy lied and said she would.

"I promise," she replied. Later, she had cried. The leftover tears unshod at the last spot she was with her Doctor running down her face. She thought she had been ready when she made the split decision to leave him. If she had stopped to think, she would've left Rory behind. She would've ran to the Doctor and never left his side. Amy Pond was selfish. But she couldn't forget the other side of herself-Amelia Amy Williams. The side that told her Rory was her husband, and she owed it to him to find him. To love him. After everything he had done for her, Rory deserved that.

Amy, after a trip to the silent cemetery, took up her key and headed back to the apartment. She decided it was time to read the letter. It was time to forgive herself of her mistake but also realize the place she had chosen, even if it isn't the place she wanted to be. The final words of her lover written in ink, scrawled on old paper surely found in a stuffed drawer of the TARDIS along with the stupid quill. Another small relic from her past.

Rory was still out, and Amy snatched the letter off the counter and sat beneath the bed sheets.  
A breath. A tick of the clock. A small sound of ripping the flap open. Another tick. The scuffling of paper scraping against its holder.  
Amy took a breath and let her eyes begin reading the printed words.

_My Amelia,_  
_Gotcha._

And that was it. Just three words to break her heart all over again. Three little words on a long sheet of yellowed paper. Three words she waited weeks and weeks to read. Three words that were not close to the ones she dreamed of hearing, spoken to her alone. Her start of reckless sobs were cut off by the ringing of their apartment door. Amy stuffed the letter and envelope under the sheets and dropped the TARDIS key back in the vanity drawer before running across the kitchen to reach the door.

"Hello?" she huffed after she opened the door to greet a man holding a small box.  
"Package."  
"Oh...thank you. Who's it from?" The man shrugged.  
"No name." Amy's eyebrows met and she took the box, thanking the man. He nodded and walked off. She shut the door behind her and grabbed her keys near the stack of bills on the counter, breaking the box's seal with them.

No name. An unsettling feeling arose as she moved the flaps back and saw the delivery inside.

Then her sobs returned. Amy Pond fell, her legs slamming against the linoleum, the prize in hand. She couldn't breathe, because she knew exactly who the box was from.

Because inside the little brown box, there was a simple red bow tie.

The Doctor didn't need to say the three words she so begged and needed to hear. Having the prized possession of her best friend, she knew what he wanted to say. He loved her. Madman, imaginary friend, savior of the universe, _her_ Doctor. The bow tie was the only relic she needed from her old life to know he loves her and misses her and will _never_ forget her.

The red bow tie found its way to a new drawer in the study, along with his letter and the TARDIS key, a small secret compartment in the bookshelf under the science-fiction romance novels.


End file.
